Chapter Forty

Kate

 

“Thanks, again, for helping me handle all this. I hope we haven’t kept you from any holiday plans,” Sam said. His mood was visibly lighter, the tension eased.

“Nope. Only Christmas Day left. I finished my shopping.”

The radio was on low, one of the stations that played holiday music twenty-four-seven in December. Jane’s house was farther from the hospital than his had been, but now she was okay, I didn’t feel a need to fill the air and keep him distracted and positive.

And one thing I can’t resist is humming along with Christmas music. Spirit in the air, indeed. It was the performance time I missed most, my busiest part of the year in high school.

And college.

Sacred memories…

“What was that sigh for?”

“Hmm?” Must’ve leaked out. “Just memories.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good. High school Decembers.”

He grinned. “Ah, yes, when I saw you more on stage than in person. How you juggled three choirs and homework mystified me.”

“Says Mr. ASB President slash varsity athlete slash valedictorian.” Counted more accolades on my fingers. “National Honor Society, debate team…”

“Okay, okay. I was a little Type A.”

My left brow arched. “You slept four hours a night.”

“Not on weekends.”

Some weekends. The yearbook committee gave you the Energizer Bunny Award.”

He shrugged. “A ten-to-twelve-hour day feels normal.”

“Even with kids?”

Head tilt of acknowledgement. “Well, yeah, there are necessary concessions. I can’t be in the office at six anymore because the daycare doesn’t open until seven. I work 7:30 to 5:30 and it closes at four, hence the neighbor helps. But toddlers still sleep a lot, so I can go through paperwork after they’re in bed or during naps. Mom watches them on Saturday during my volunteer hours. Though I suppose that might change for a while.”

He parked in her driveway.

“Maybe. We don’t know what the doctor will say. She’s babysitting, not taking them for marathons.” I opened my door.

A flash of annoyance as I got out before he did again. “True. But toddlers can still be a handful.”

He unlocked the house and I pulled Jane’s list out of my pocket. “Split the list and we’ll get out faster. I can grab her clothes.” I tore the piece of paper in half and handed him the downstairs part.

Jane wanted her undergarments and neither of them needed him trying to pick those. Chuckling, I grabbed her very specific requests. The sixty-three-year-old knew what she wanted and damn all substitutes. Found a small suitcase in the closet and loaded her clothes, pajamas, slippers, and toiletries. Snapped it shut on the bed and took a moment to look around me.

Her bedroom was decorated in florals similar to the guest room, only she used blue instead of pink, and the wallpaper was pinstriped. I’d never had occasion to linger in here before, so it was my first time absorbing her space. The concentrated essence of someone living in the same room for decades. She had cedar blocks in the closet and every drawer, but the woody scent didn’t clash with her perfume.

The bathroom had a white tub, no shower, and one sink with a lower vanity section next to it for her to sit on a stool and apply her makeup—which was all Avon.

Everything was neat and tidy in her suite, but still very lived-in.

“Got everything?”

Sam had stopped in a casual pose in the doorway and the surprise of his appearance when I was caught up in Jane’s space took my breath away for a moment. I could only nod.

Shut up, hormones!

I picked up the suitcase and he took it from my hand.

He glanced in the guest room on the way.

Don’t even start

Jane’s wicker knitting basket was by the front door. “I was thinking…” he said.

“Yes?”

“Maybe you could invite your brother out here. Your roommate, too, if they’re a matched set.”

“Why?” A blunt question, but he’d caught me off guard.

He scratched his neck. “Forget it. Just popped in my head.”

“I didn’t mean to sound like I was shutting you down. You surprised me.”

“Oh. I…I thought…look, I don’t know what Mom will be up to and this has been so much easier with you here and I know she’d love to have you for Christmas, but I don’t want to keep you from your family, and that’s where the invite popped out.”

His babbling was novel, and adorable. “It’s sweet of you to ask. But…”

Then confident-Sam was back. “What if I offered to pay for their tickets?”

“You’re definitely your mother’s son.”

He grinned, and the butterfly broke out of its cocoon and flew around my insides. “That a yes?”

I shooed him out with flicks of my hands. “Let’s see what the doctor has to say.”

Back in the car, I tried my best to not act like he’d shaken me, but wow…

I needed to text Sonya before I said anything to Pete. Sam had a grasp of the hospital by now, so once we entered, I lagged slightly behind to update her on the day.

Hit send just before reaching the elevator.

Sam carried Jane’s stuff.

“Hey, Mom,” he greeted her with cheer.

A food tray was at her lap. “Their cook sucks,” she said.

I laughed. “I know, it’s bland as hell, but it won’t kill you.”

“Have you seen the cardiologist, yet?”

Jane scowled. “They say he’s in surgery.”

“We got everything on your list, so I need to pick up the kids,” Sam said.

She shooed him off with her right hand, staring at Price Is Right on the TV.

“Do what you need to do,” I murmured. “We’ll be fine.”

He caressed my arm in silent thanks and left.

I set her knitting box on the end of the bed and opened the suitcase on the guest chair. “Would you like to change? Or I can hang up everything in the closet.”

“You two are chummy.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sick, not blind.”

I set her toiletry case on the nightstand. “I’ve lent my experience and a helping hand. Sam’s grateful. You scared him. Me, too. It’s easy to think you’re invincible.”

“Uh-huh.” She muted the TV. “Hope he doesn’t try to bring the kids. They don’t need to see all this.”

“Sam said they don’t expect to see you until tomorrow, so don’t worry about it.”

“At least he kept some wits about him. He’s like his father, you know, when trouble comes up. Flustered and panicked. I always had to take charge in a crisis.”

“I think Sam’s done very well so far.”

She snorted. “You didn’t see him yesterday before you arrived.”

“Jane, you’re being too hard on him. He handled your crisis and the kids for hours before I got here. All I’ve done is be supportive. I came because I didn’t want to lose you, dumbass.”

Her brows rose. “You wouldn’t have sassed me twenty years ago.”

“I wasn’t thirty-eight twenty years ago. Now I’ll call you on your shit.”

A chuckle.

And finally a smile. “Nashville’s been good for you.”

“None of us are kids anymore. Now, tell me the story of how you got in that bed.”

She played with the hem of the blanket on her lap. “Not much to tell! One minute, I’m moving stuff around in the garage, next I’m dizzy and there’s a pain through my chest into my back. Didn’t ease when I sat down, so I dialed 911. I’m not the first in my group to have a heart attack, so it was an easy guess what was happening. Ate an aspirin from my purse and waited for the ambulance. Got in the ER and they did their thing.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Nothing abnormal. You’re awake during an angioplasty, so the doc talked me through it. He was pleased with the results. Just have to have him come in here and give me the recovery spiel and I can go home.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. Observation. They’re gonna tell me to take more walks and eat less pie and lose five or ten pounds. Big whoop.”

“If you don’t follow directions, Sam’ll make you take up swimming.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Oh, that’s what everyone needs to see. Bathing suits have an expiration date, trust me.”

“I’m sure we could find you a cute swimsuit. Maybe you’d meet a nice gentleman at a water aerobics class.”

“I already know plenty of nice gentlemen and there’s one problem—they’re all old men.”

I grinned. “Oh, I see, you have cougar tastes.”

“Pfft. God no. What would I do with a kid?”

“Fifties, then?” I closed the closet after organizing her clothes. “Plenty of hot Hollywood men in their fifties.”

“That’s true.” She tapped her fingers on her arm. “How young do you think I can pass for?”

I examined her critically. “Right wardrobe, a decade younger no problem.”

She nodded. “I can work with that. Fifty-three wasn’t a bad year.” Her grin turned secretive, like she was remembering something I didn’t want to know.

“Well…” I sat in the chair. “At least your timing could’ve been worse. You have over a week to rest before the school year resumes.”

“Two more years ‘til retirement.”

My phone chimed. Sam: Sorry I’m taking so long. Kids were eating when I got here.

Not a problem. We’re chatting, I typed back.

“My son?”

“Yeah. Apologizing.”

“He drove you here?”

“Yep.”

Mom behaving? he sent next.

As much as she ever does.

“Pick you up at the motel?”

Crap. “Uh, no, I’m camped in his guest room. It was late last night.”

“I see.”

I wagged my index finger. “Nuh-uh, cut it out with that whole smug vibe you’re sporting. We’re friends.”

“You might think so.”

“Jane…” That came out a little whiney. I cringed. I hate whining. “You told me six months ago you didn’t want him to try to rebound with me.”

“He’s over Mandy now.”

“You had a heart attack less than twenty-four hours ago and now you’re matchmaking?”

She shrugged. “Someone should. You two didn’t have the good sense to date in high school.”

My jaw dropped. A little.

“Oh my God.” I shook my head. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Language, Miss Carson.”

My brows rose. “That’d be more convincing if you weren’t grinning at me, madwoman.”

She was completely unrepentant. “You’re my two favorite people on the planet, grandbabies excluded. Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy?”

Heart, clenching again.

“I don’t have to date Sam to be happy.”

“Is there someone else?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see a problem.”

“I live in Nashville.”

“Kate…” She patted the bed, inviting me to sit closer. “Life is short. That was clear when my dear departed husband died in his sleep and even more so now. Near-death experiences often bring clarity and there’s an obvious connection between you two. In the time you have, explore that. Make an old woman happy.”

I squeezed her hand. “Mama Jane, I love you…but no. It wouldn’t do anybody any good.”

A knock on the doorframe. “What’s no good?” Sam asked.

“The chicken dinner for patients. Dry as a bone,” I said. Quick recovery. “Kids at daycare?”

“Yeah, for a few hours. Candace wants to see Santa at the mall.”

“This close to Christmas, I’d rather have another heart attack,” Jane quipped.

Sam’s brows dropped over his eyes. “Not funny, Mom.”

“Laughter’s the best medicine, dear,” she trilled.

“She’s snarky today,” I said.

She stuck her tongue out at me. He laughed.

Her. Him. This was my family, too, I realized.

When did that happen?

What the hell was I going to do about it?

My phone played Sonya’s ringtone.